Whiskers
by Self-Titled Demo
Summary: Spain gets into a fight with England, leaving him in a "hairy" situation and stuck in the care of his favorite henchman. TransformedCat!Spain x ChibiRomano
1. Chapter 1

**Once again, when I should be working on other things, I do this instead.**

**This will be a short, multi-chapter fic.**

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><p>For far too long that bastard Spain had been missing, leaving his charge alone in his way too fucking big house. Romano scowled, pulling the down stuffed blanket he ripped off of Spain's bed closer to his chest as the flamers in the hearth dwindled down to a lazy flicker, spouting out the same amount of light and warmth as a melted candle. "Bastard..." His growl echoed out into the barren mansion, rebounding against the walls before fluttering away under the pattering of rain on the roof three floors up. A sniff scuttled into the winter chilled air, but it went unanswered.<p>

Days before, Belgium and her brother absconded to tend to political matters in their countries and all of Spain's human servants departed at the first flickering of night to visit their families, leaving Romano with the Tomato fucker. Or that's what it would've been if the bastard hadn't disappeared earlier that day without a single word. At first, the Italian assumed Spain was playing some kind of cruel game, waiting for Romano to cry out for his boss, but after the sun died behind the western seas and rain began to howl against the sides of the house, Romano became fretful for the safety of the elder nation.

Grumbling over the whine that threatened to pour out into the frigid air, Romano scooted closer to the dying flame, reaching out and splaying his tiny, pudgy fingers against the faltering aura of warmth radiating from the hearth. He hated this. This was worse than a disappointed frown plastered on Spain's face before he would retreat to his room, not to emerge until the next morning. Smoldering heat pricked at his hazel eyes, slithering down to tighten its willowy fingers around his neck and squeezed, catching Romano's breath before it could scratch out of his throat. Thunder bellowed amongst the clouds, cackling its fingers across dip of the overcast sky and flicked light down to the water-drenched fields, earning a yelp from the trembling child.

He whimpered as tears trickle down his cheeks, impossibly wide eyes frantically jumping between the curtained windows. A screech tore through his lips at the second roar of thunder, crumbling what little resolve Romano had remaining in his tiny frame, and he wailed, weeping into the blanket for his caretaker. But a pair of arms didn't wrap around his shoulders, cooing to him in those sweet Spanish whispers like he desperately desired and the comforting warmth failed to encase him in the coverlet of security he _needed_.

"S-Spa-ain, y-you b-ba-" His curses slurred against his tongue as tears streamed down into his mouth, bubbling up on his lips and staining the cloth pressed so tightly to his lips. Hiccups and yelps segregated the wails roaring through his throat and they drowned out the pattering onslaught of rain on the stone roof. Where the hell was he? Why would he leave Romano all alone for so long without telling him where the fuck he was going?

A yelp scraped through his teeth at the bellow of something heavy slamming against the front door, followed by the handles furiously clicking and more loud bangs. Romano remained frozen in his protective blanket, covering everything but his eyes with the silky, feather stuffed fabric as the pounding relentlessly persisted. It grew louder, roaring over the rain but Romano only whimpered. Many times over, Spain scolded him for answering the door without his knowledge... but it _was_ raining outside, and he didn't even want to begin to think of how furious Spain would be if he came home to find a dead guy on his veranda.

Thick wads of nervousness gathered in Romano's throat, uncomfortably restricting his airways as he gulped the lumps down and rose to his feet, dragging the blanket behind him for a few feet before he reached the door. The rapping upon the door ceased shortly before Romano reached it, remaining eerily silent under the pattering of the rain and thunder. Unlocking the door with tender, trembling fingers, he pulled it back just far enough so he could peek at whoever was outside... finding his vision empty of anything as he stared up where an adult's face usually was.

But the strangled groan from his feet startled the poor child. His eyes shot down to the form laying sprawled out on its side, tattered red clothes and a mop of curls sticky with water meeting his sight. Whoever it was, breathed as if they had something around their neck, cutting off their airways as they tried to gulp down air to only find that it was nearly impossible. "H-Hey..." Romano nudged at the man's head with the tips of his socked toes, jumping back when he groaned and twitched from the contact. "B-Bastard, get up... You can't die out here... I'll get yelled at..."

The man twitched again, bracing his arms against the wooden beams of the veranda as he moved closer to the child, dragging his face on the ground while he grunted. "R-Roma..."

A cold jolt surged through the little one's body as he instantly recognized the raucous voice crackling from the man's lips and the glint of pure emerald in his fragile eyes. With a panicked gasp, Romano seized Spain's arm between both of his hands and used his entire body to drag the nation out of the cold, digging his toes into the wooden floor to keep himself from slipping. But he still lost his footing, tumbling back and smacking his head against the ground. He whimpered, clutching to the rear of his skull with pudgy fingers as he rolled to his side and curled up, desperately choking back the tears leaking out of his lids.

"Roma...nito..." An arm found its way around Romano's torso, pulling him into a warm chest once it reached his coiled body. "Rom...ani...to..." Spain's tomato scented breath washed over the child's forehead before his lips followed, surprisingly accepted by the little one curled up in his arms. "You're... not hurt?"

"B-Bastard-d." He cried into Spain's tattered coat, clutching the fabric between his fingers as his caretaker rubbed lazy circles into his back and hoarsely cooed to him with that silly charm he only used for Romano. The child hiccupped between sniffles, pulling away from the older nation. God, he looked _terrible_... his coat was torn in so many places, looking like a rabid animal attacked him and his hair stuck to his skin in clumps from the foul mixture of sweat, rain and blood. That jubilant glimmer was missing from his dulled emerald eyes, blankly staring at his charge and following every movement he made as he grabbed at the Spaniard's arm, tugging him away from the door and from the cold.

Romano slammed the opening closed, staring down at the puddle of water swirling with slivers of blood and small scraps of cloth. Spain shifted, dragging his head across the floor as he curled up and stretched out his hand against the wooden beams, reaching for his charge who was still standing by the entryway. "Ro…ma…" he croaked out from chapped lips, tenderly grinning at the quivering child and wordlessly beckoning him to his side.

Within seconds, Romano was clutching to that arm so much larger than his own, trying so feverishly to pull Spain closer to the warm flames flickering in the mantle, but he didn't have enough strength in his tiny body to drag the Spaniard's weight across the room. Bursting into sobs, Romano slipped on the floor again before he crawled on his knees to the smiling bastard and plopped down in front of him.

"Roma…" Spain cooed to the young nation, using what was left of his strength to pull himself over to the crying child. He wrapped his arms around Romano's waist, nuzzling his cheek into the soft apron that the child forgot to remove after his hard day of work and he weakly sighed, dampening Romano's slacks with his moist breath. His gestures of admiration only fueled the tears spouting from the Italian's finger squashed eyes and the sobs sputtering from his mouth. "What's wrong… _mi tomate?_" Oh, his voice was so grotesquely weak and jittery, sending painful chills down Romano's spine.

"Y-You, b-b-astard.." he managed to weep between hiccups and sniffling coughs. "H-How can you t-t-take care of me if you're… you're hurt?"

"Ah~ Roma." Spain sighed through his teeth, shifting his face so he could gently gaze into his sweet charge's eyes as he grinned, prying those fingers away from his eyes and taking the child's hand into his own. His kissed those pudgy little digits and Romano's tears hushed for a moment. "You're so.. thoughtful..." Suddenly, air hissed though his lips, matching the harsh jerk rippling down the muscles in his back.

"B-Bastard…?" What the hell was happening to that idiot? His grip tightened on the boy's hands, cutting off the blood to the tips of his fingers and digging his nails into the much paler skin, forming painful half moons. Thunder roared outside once more, accompanied by several bright flashes of lightning that flickered off of the rain dripping from Spain's body and forced another flinch in his muscles. Harsh, jittery breaths huffed from the elder nation's lungs, scraping past his teeth as it poured down Romano's legs, scalding them with every gasp and harsh clinch of the child's wrist.

Those nails finally breached the wall of flesh, biting into his skin and drawing blood as if they somehow grew _sharper_ over the last few seconds. Ashen steam fluttered up into the air from his body, lazily forming shapes in the air and encircling the child more with every moment that passed and blocking out his sight. He couldn't move his arms in Spain's grip, nor could he jump away from the sudden burning heat eating away at his legs. "Rom…aagggghmmsss…" came a groan from the direction where Spain was supposed to be, but his weight was slowly dying away with every shift of his body, matching the gasps hissing through clinched teeth. His grip slipped off of Romano's wrist, allowing the child to finally scuttle away from whatever was happening to his beloved caretaker.

He couldn't even see the bastard anymore.

But… he could still hear those horrid groans and wheezes screeching from his throat like a dying beast, slowing growing weaker and laden with harsh breaths that scratched against the floor like his nails. Deep and frenzied they were, calling for Romano among every cough and heave. Just as the child considered reaching out to help his boss, atrocious cracks and pops reverberated in the air, resembling that of snapping a tree in two, and a screech bellowed from the folds of Spain's lungs.

He was hurting… in pain from some force that was alien to the child and it was only worsening, matching the scratching of his boots kicking at the floor. Oh god… Spain was in pain… fucking hurting and there wasn't a damn thing Romano could do about it.

Tears streamed from wide, fearful eyes and he shoved his fists against his mouth to keep a matching sob from weeping out. Romano stumbled back, hiding behind one of the wicker chairs his Spanish caretaker always kept at a safe but warm position in front of the fireplace, completely torn between staying where he was and rushing over to help Spain. But what the hell _could_ he do? The smoke tore his view away from the man and the flashes of light from outside only made everything seem even more terrifying, freezing the child in his spot.

He had to get help… Spain needed someone dammit! Someone who could lift his fat ass off of that damn floor and fix whatever was making him hurt so bad… but everyone was home, far away from Spain's mansion out in the middle of fucking nowhere. And that screaming… it just wouldn't stop.

Spain screamed… and screamed… then screamed some more, each time crying out for his youngest lackey, yet he was met by only sobs and hiccups from the child keeping his distance. He squeezed his eyes shut as hands were thrown over Romano's ears, tiny palms trying to block out the horrid shrieks from his caretaker, but it failed to mute Spain's voice. More tears leaked from the boy's eyes. He was useless. Utterly useless, just standing there crying like a human child as one of the only people who ever showed that they cared for him was sprawled out in some fucking smoke, yelling for the one who _couldn't_ help him.

And Romano had no idea how long had passed before he registered that the only noises in the house were his own sobs, the roar of thunder and the pattering of rain. No screams… no grunts from his caretaker. Just… silence.

He pried his stubby fingers away from his ears, and allowed his eyes to crack open. No smoke either. But Spain's clothes were still sprawled out as if the man evaporated while he was wearing them, leaving the outline of his body on the floor. Romano stared at the clothes and matching boots. The hell? Where the fuck did Spain go? With hesitant feet, Romano made his way over to the remains of his caretaker, noticing how Spain apparently was on his back before the smoke dissipated into the air.

"Spain?" Romano called out, searching around with his eyes for the elder nation, _knowing_ that the bastard had to be somewhere. People just don't disappear in a cloud of smoke… well, except magicians and Spain was too much of an idiot to be one of those. "Dammit, bastard! This isn't funny!" Only the rain answered his grumbling. He could already feel the fear bubbling up in his stomach, spreading its cold fingers to every nerve in his body. Spain wouldn't do this… he wouldn't leave Romano if he was in tears. That bastard would coddle him until he stopped crying, and then coo and sing to him even more, as if to prove that _everything_ was going to be okay.

So where was he when burning tears finally streaked Romano's cheeks? Or when sputtering whimpers pried apart his lips? "Sp-Spain…." He glared down at the clothes once more, clinching his tiny fists as he contemplated kicking the garments to make everything better. But, just as he cocked back his foot, he noticed a small lump in the center of the clothes… a _moving_ lump. _Breathing_, if there was a better word to describe it. Romano stared at it, feeling the hair on the back of his neck prickling up as cold tingles washed down his skin.

Yet, that irritating curiosity that seemed to come with being a child got the better of him, and he crouched down, carefully bringing his tiny fingers up to the folds of Spain's favorite coat and parted the opening. Then, he unbuttoned the pale shirt underneath, brushing his nails against something soft and warm.

Soft…

Warm…?

More cloth gave way to his fingers, and his breath caught in his throat at the sight of the furry creature lying where Spain was only moments before.

A cat.

Quite large for its kind and its short fur was the same shade of brown as Spain's mess of frail curls, but the animal was soaked. It shivered under the onslaught of cold air, tail and ears twitching at the weak choking noises sputtering from Romano's throat. It couldn't be… Spain couldn't… no…. He _couldn't_ be a cat!

"B-Bastard…?" The cat twitched again, making a strange groaning meow as it languidly tried to pry open its eyes. Such a brilliant green they were, so bright in comparison to its dark fur and it stared at Romano for only a moment before its eyes rolled back and its lids gently shut over them. He considered reaching down for the animal, but froze as he saw Spain's cherished necklace around its neck, glittering from the light of the dying flames in the mantle. Oh god… it… it really was Spain, wasn't it?

Panic buried itself into Romano's bones. What would he do? He couldn't care for an animal, much less the one who was supposed to be taking care of _him_! Not to mention, Spain _never_ allowed animals in the house and his servants always enforced that idea for him. But they couldn't just throw the now cat turned Spain out into the fields…. And they probably wouldn't believe the child if he tried to tell them the truth. Romano stared down at Spain, still unsure what he should do.

Spain's consistent shivering caught the child's attention, and immediately, he scurried to pick up the cat. He groaned under the animal's weight, cursing his fatness as he drug him over to the blanket still piled up in front of the fireplace. Plopping down, Romano gently nestled Spain into his lap before he grabbed the corners of the duvet and wrapped it around the two, praying that it would keep his caretaker warm. Carefully, he unraveled the jewelry from around the cat's neck, slipping it into his own pocket.

Romano sighed, staring down at the animal in his lap.

Why was this bastard always getting into trouble?


	2. Chapter 2

**I had a ton of trouble with this chapter, so I hope it came out decent.**

**And I know the chapter is rather short, but I plan on most chapters in this fic being like this, save for one or two. It makes it easier on me since I don't have an overabundance of**** concepts I have to explain in the text.**

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><p>Particles of sunlight blinded Romano as he woke the next morning. He groaned, trying to wipe away the light and sticky sensation plastered around his eyes and cheeks as he sat up from the blanket strewn out over the cold floor. Ugh... he felt disgusting, like everything was trying to stick to him, not to mention he had a dull headache throbbing in the back of his skull. He looked down to see that Spain was still resting in his lap, curled up into a ball of brown fluff as he snoozed on. Every now and then, his ear or tail would twitch, quickly followed by both of his paws extending their claws before gently retracting. He had to say that his boss was actually kind of cute as the furry creature, and he soon found that his pelt was rather soft as he ran his hand down the animal's back, only to stop once he reached the base of Spain's tail.<p>

_Spain's tail..._

_Spain_ had a fucking _tail..._

Panic, terror and a shit-ton of other emotions burst through Romano's body when he realized exactly what the fuck was going on and jerked his hand away from his caretaker's transformed hide. His tiny heart quivered behind his ribs, painfully pumping cold blood to the rest of his body as he pushed himself away from the cat, tumbling backwards until his spine collided with the edge of the sofa. The moment Spain hit the floor, his eyes shot open before falling half-mast, as if he was only moments away from falling back asleep. Did...didn't he _care_ that he was a fucking cat now? That bastard couldn't possibly be so airheaded that he didn't notice that he was a four legged animal, much less a hell of a lot _lower_ than he used to be.

"H-Hey, moron!" Romano called out, somewhat disappointed with how lazily Spain dragged his head across the floor as he flicked his eyes up to the child, blinking and then curling his...er, lip-fold things up to imitate a smile. "Do you _not_ notice anything different?" There wasn't any possible way that he didn't! Spain merely yawned and sprawled his body out across the floor, apparently disregarding everything that could be wrong, including any injuries he might have sustained the night before. He let out a small meow as his tiny claws fingered at the floor during his seemingly pleasing stretch, though... he did pause once his voice met his ears. They flicked, matching the puzzled gleam in his eyes before he tried once more to speak to the child, only to be met with a meow.

And then another...

...and another.

The idiot finally seemed to notice something was askew and he looked down at his paws. It was almost comical; the shrill squeak that huffed out of his tiny mouth and how he fluffed up his body in alarm. His ears flattened against his skull as he frantically circled around, trying to catch a glimpse of every detail of his legs, haunches and even his tail, which swished around, agitated and engulfed in hysteria's embrace. Wide, fearful eyes watched Spain in his moment of panic, trying not to be lulled into his emotional stress by clamping fingers over their owner's mouth to stop any sobs that may want to pour out. But they failed... Small, pathetic whimpers still managed to slither from his pudgy digit's hold and into the air, quickly followed by the searing tears that dripped down onto his cheeks. This was too much... If Spain couldn't keep calm about this, then how the hell could Romano? Dammit, _he_ was supposed to be the one who always brushed important shit like this off!

He needed to notice how _upset_ he was making the child, but that fucking airheaded idiot wouldn't even notice it if it smacked him across the face with a shovel that had been resting in a fire. The Southern Italian slid his back down the front of the couch and onto his rump, tucking his legs to his chest. He buried his face into his knees, trying to hide himself from the world by enclosing his head with his quivering arms and harshly gnawing on his bottom lip.

This was all wrong...

This was messed up.

What could he do? How the hell could he take care of a cat? He was just a pathetic, clumsy excuse for a nation stuck in a child's body who could barely clean or cook for himself, having to rely on everyone and everything else to care for him. No one around the house would want to risk a scolding for taking in the animal, and the ones who actually were fond enough of Romano to let him get away with something like this wouldn't be back for a few weeks.

Hiccupping sobs tore through his lips, splattering tears on Romano's slacks. This was _his_ fault... he just knew it, and if Veneziano were here... he'd be able to fix it. Romano was useless... nothing he could do would help his caretaker, and he _knew_ the Spaniard would be a hell of a lot better off if Veneziano was his lackey instead of the unruly brunet. Nothing he did would ever make him compare to his brother. All he was good at doing was messing things up and sobbing like the crybaby he was... completely and utterly useless. He didn't care if Spain didn't like him crying, nor if one of his servants walked into the room and _laughed_ at the wailing child, like they tended to do when Spain, Belgium or Holland weren't around. Romano just wanted to be alone. No... He wanted Spain to hug him; to comfort him and to stop his tears, like he _always_ did. But it wouldn't happen, it _couldn't_ happen with the way the Spanish male was now.

Something warm and slightly soft to the touch brushed against his knee, eventually placing an even weight upon both of his legs before something else that was cold and wet touched his arm. After a quick snuffle, Romano put on his best frown only for it to morph into a disgusting pout, flicking his sight up to whatever had touched him. A pair of bright emerald eyes that reflected his face gazed up at him and Romano was caught in the beauty of them. So many hues circled the inky pupil; gold, cresson, sapphire, oh there were too many to name, each intensified by the dark brown canvas they were set upon. Spain meowed at the little one, pressing more of his weight on the child's knees until his back legs snapped up. He crawled down Romano's thighs and into his lap, craning his neck back so he could easily see the face of the sobbing child.

A soft meow fell from his mouth as he stared up, curling his tail around Romano's leg and gently brushing the top of his head against the Italian's chin, then his jaw and finally his cheek. "W-What are you d-doing...?" Romano sniffled, staring down at the cat-turned idiot. Spain mewed once again with his ears twisted back and flat against his head and then another meow met the child's ears as Spain tried to press his entire side to Romano's chest, tucking his head into the junction between his charge's neck and shoulder. That bastard...was... was he actually trying to _hug_ him? He could already hear it... that soothing voice that constantly cooed to him during nightmare infested dreams.

_No llores más, aquí estoy._

That idiot with his overly complicated language... worrying about Romano's feelings when _he_ was the one who had to endure whatever pain being a cat brought onto him. Did Spain even _care_ that he was nothing more but an animal now? Romano couldn't even sense him despite the Spaniard flat against him, and he wondered if Spain realized that, at this moment... he was probably _mortal._

That bastard.

That fucking _stupid_ bastard...

Why did he always put Romano before himself? He just didn't understand why that idiot always saw the child as something more important than his own life; constantly getting into fights and coming come bloody and damaged because a pathetic, worthless nation who was only good for what his grandfather left behind. Those thoughts alone forced more tears out of his eyes and matching sobs to bubble from his lips as his tiny fingers nestled themselves in Spain's inky brown fur, pulling his caretaker closer and closer until he was afraid that he was harming the cat. "Y-You're a f-f-fucking id-diot." Romano sobbed into his fur, trying his best to ignore how Spain was nuzzling his head into the younger nation's rounded jaw, but he failed miserably at it. It was hard to ignore such a persistent nation.

He slightly leaned into his boss' touch, yearning for those arms to hold him rather than what he was currently getting. Romano...he was so _scared_. What if Spain could never return to that tall, idiotic bastard that Romano both loved and hated so damn much? He didn't want him to be a cat... Romano was never fond of such animals anyway, since the first one he met practically mauled his face.

Spain allowed Romano to hold him for many, many more minutes, not once trying to pull himself away from the child soaking his fur with tears, and the Southern Italian wondered if Spain was scared too. No... Spain _never_ was frightened; that idiot was always so damn happy all of the time, always smiling and calling Romano those stupid little nicknames he reserved only for him; _Romanito, __mi_ _tomate__ precioso__.._. among other such sappy names. The cat meowed into the crook of Romano's neck, shifting his weight so he would lay in a more comfortable position in the tiny Italian's lap as he held him, literally with his hind legs dangling off to the side. "Spain..." Romano eventually whispered under his breath, thankful that the animal probably had superb hearing compared to his own. "What are we going to do? Y-You can't stay a cat forever... you just can't..." He wiggled out of the boy's grasp, leaning against the back of Romano's knees as those glossy emeralds gazed up at him. He blinked before mewing at the child.

_Mnaah~_

Romano frowned a half-pout, wiping his tear stained cheeks with the back of his hand and the cuff of his work shirt. "I can't understand you." His ears twitched as he tilted his head to the side.

_Mnaaahh~_

Spain nuzzled his nose into Romano's cheek, drawing out a faint smile that morphed into a light giggle once the Spanish nation meowed again, curling his tail around the child's forearm and snuggling as much of his body as he could into the Italian's chest. Why was it always so easy for the bastard to cheer Romano up? Even after one of Romano's worst days, all Spain had to do was smile and wave his arms around while humming out that stupid charm... and he was happy again. Well, to a certain point at least, but it was always marginally better than before.

Yet it still didn't help the fact that Spain was a fucking cat and Romano had no idea how to get him to turn back. Hell, he didn't even know where to start or what the fuck turned him into the animal in the first place, and since that bastard couldn't do anything other than meow, he couldn't tell Romano exactly what happened. It didn't mean he couldn't try. "What the hell did you do to get yourself like this, bastard?" The animal mewed at him, obviously trying to speak as if he thought that Romano could speak cat, which was certainly something Spain would think. Fucking idiot. He just kept chattering away, replaying everything that happened in a tongue that the child only heard as I'm a cat, meowmeowmeow~ Look at how cute I sound~. Why did he have to have an airheaded boss that could easily compete with Veneziano's level of stupidity? "Moron, I can't underst-"

_"ROMANO!"_

His face snapped up to the shrill sound to his left. Oh god... it was that voice... the voice of that fucking hag that seemed to have something against the child every single damn time she thought all of the other nations were out of the house. Teresa, that damn bitch was called, stomped over to the Italian while holding the most furious and disgusted sneer on her middle-aged face, her inky eyes instantly straying to the clothes that Spain left behind the night before. "There you are, you little runt. What have I told you time and time again about making a mess?" Her harsh Spanish words napped out of her mouth and bit at Romano's skin, drawing a glare from the child. It really wasn't hidden among the other servants on how much she disliked the boy, probably stemming from her husband being an Italian that constantly slept with other women behind her back, which grew into a hatred for almost every man from the boot-shaped peninsula, including its personifications.

Not every Italian man was like that idiot. Didn't she know that?

"Why do you always have to cause such a mess, child? You're completely useless!" Spain's ears twitched back at Teresa's sharp remark, flattening against his head as anger boiled up in his eyes and his tail began to swish back and forth in irritation. "I don't see why Spain won't teach you a lesson in respect like he did with the others." A low growl rumbled in the cat's throat, matching the lashes Romano's leg endured from his thrashing tail and the slight pricks from his claws. That bitch had better be glad that Spain wasn't in a human form right now, or she'd probably be facing the wrath of the empire.

She glared down at the cat, curling her lip up in disgust. "What's this? I see you brought in a dirty rat." With a mere two steps, she closed the space between herself and Romano, bent over and snatched Spain up by the scruff of his neck. Oh, the amount of noise that the animal shrieked out; yowling, hissing and spitting at the woman holding him at arm's length to prevent his claws from digging into her skin or his fangs from sinking into her arm. He'd never seen the Spanish nation so... so _furious_; angry, yes, but not to the point where he wanted to physically harm someone, especially in front of his young henchman. Teresa glared at the flailing cat before sliding her sneer to the child as she made her way over to the entryway. "Of course you'd bring in a runt like this."

She yanked the door open, taking one last look at Spain before chucking him out the door. "What are you doing!" Romano screeched, dragging himself up to his feet and rushing over to the servant, eyes peeled wide open in both anger and dread. "Why the fuck did you do th-"

Teresa's hand whipped across the child's cheek with a loud audible _smack_, powerful enough to knock him back on his rear and leave a red mark across his face. Her words spat at him, crackling like sputtering coal in a thin layer of water, "Watch your language, _child_. Spain's not here and I _won't_ allow this behavior to go unpunished." Small fingers brushed the red mark throbbing on his cheek and tears welled up in the corners of his eyes. The bitch hit him! Slapped him! Th-this never happened before... and Romano couldn't even form thoughts in his head from the shock overtaking his mind. The servant merely crossed her arms and tapped her foot. "Don't be a cry baby. Clean up your mess, brat, and _maybe_ I won't tell _Spain_ about the flea-ridden mongrel."

_Flea-ridden_... Spain didn't have fleas! Where the hell did she get the right to say something so stupid! Romano puffed out his cheeks at the ungrateful servant, trying his best not to burst into a wail from the earlier action and the scolding words that continued to spout from her mouth. He didn't need this crap... this unforgivable shit that happened to him whenever he was alone with the majority of the servants who didn't particularly like him. Which was most, if not all of them... always complaining that he was too lazy or clumsy or too damn stupid to be a nation. Well dammit, he wasn't going to let those bastards words be true. Hell no. He _would_ take care of Spain, even if he had to live outside from now on. That idiot cat wouldn't leave his sight until he turned back into his human self that smiled too damn much and always crushed the boy with his fat arms. He didn't make a sound as he pushed past the hag, completely ignoring her once the door was thrust open and slammed behind him.

A long, sinewy tail swished back and forth, its owner quietly sitting in the center of the topmost stair leading down to the cobblestone pathway. Romano only spared Spain a quick glance before stomping past him and he was somewhat glad the cat decided to momentarily abandon what anger he had at his servant to follow the child instead, easily keeping up with him without much stress. Eventually, he _did_ meow at the Italian once they passed the lofty walls surrounding his estate, but it was ignored, even when the tears finally broke from their hold and shattered what confidence the child had in his body.

What was he thinking? Him..._responsible_? As if that would _ever_ be true. Hell, even the tomato plant that Spain helped him with _died_ only a few months later, leaving the child in tears for an entire week despite everything his caretaker did to make him feel better. Hugs and those silly charms that he missed just weren't enough. Rough cloth rubbed at his eyes in an attempt to dry them off and a sniffing nose attempted to calm the few hiccups that leap from his lungs like frogs off of a lily pad. He hated this... everything. The damn cat following him, the incline in his desired path, the wet mud soaking through his socks...damn it all. He just wanted... he wanted _Spain_. More of the dark muck coated his fingers and knees when he crouched down to crawl under a particularly large root blocking him from his favorite hiding spot, thankfully sheltered from the rain.

Romano plopped down in the center of the hollowed tree, pressing his back against the wooden walls surrounding him. It was dark, almost pitch black save for the small beams of light slivering their way in from the holes perched higher up in the tree, each cascading down and twinkling against the thin spiderwebs sewn across the bark. Here, he could think...he could release those annoying emotions that were his alone.

He could be _himself_ here.

A sigh poured from his lips as he glared up to the spiraling heavens, wishing, _hoping_ something would come around to help him. He couldn't count on Spain this time, no matter how much he wanted to, so, he closed his eyes and allowed the chill of the tree hollow to erase the thoughts from his mind, calming him with its willowy fingers that danced across his hair and left a slight shimmer across the tresses.

What to do...

How to help his caretaker without making everything worse...

Could anyone help him? Maybe...but he wasn't quite sure who yet. Belgium might allow him to bring food to Spain without much of a problem, Holland too since he _was_ considerably nicer to the child than he was to anyone else, besides his sister of course. But that only covered food. Where would he stay overnight? Maybe he could find a way to allow him to slip in when everyone was asleep and let him lay in his bed until morning... but that wouldn't be too smart, since Romano still had to use a chair to unlock the windows and the doors creaked far too loudly.

He couldn't just stuff the cat under his shirt either; the bastard was too big and it would look like the child was pregnant or trying to sneak in tomatoes again. Another huff was expelled from his lungs. God, this was just too complicated to think about. Something warm and furry brushed against his arm, startling the poor boy before he realized it was just Spain. Damn that bastard, he was even sneakier now than he was as a man. Those sparkling emeralds gazed up at him, carrying an obvious worried gleam. Romano pouted. "I'm _fine_. Leave me alone."

One of Spain's ears twitched, apparently not believing his charge, and with one of those strange meowing purrs, he invited himself onto Romano's lap. He circled around for a moment, disregarding the glare the Italian shot at him before laying down, completely sprawled across him with his head hanging off one end and his hindquarters off the other. Romano had to force himself to bite back the smile trying to creep onto his lips, forming an annoyed scowl in its place. "Lazy bum." He brought a hand up to Spain's ear, scratching it with the tips of his fingers. The animal leaned into his touch, contently swaying his tail back and forth across the cool dirt, making Romano slightly wonder if this was okay... He was technically touching _Spain_, so if he rubbed his back...would it be the same as repeating the gesture when he was human? He really didn't want such images to pop into his mind, but if he was touching Spain's head... it could probably be the equivalent of touching his hair, right?

Ugh. This was too confusing. He'd just touch his head, and nowhere else. Although it didn't sound any better than what was running through his mind earlier, he would just stick with it and question it later. At least Spain seemed to be enjoying it; he always did like it the very _rare_ occurrences when Romano would play with his hair.

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><p><strong>I know there was an OC and I'm not a huge fan of them, but I needed a reason for Spain to be kicked out... and a nice servant wouldn't do in my mind.<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**Unless I make the chapters twice as long, expect this fic to have at least 15+ chapters. I still have a lot I want to do with this.**

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><p>Romano wasn't entirely sure how long he spent holed up in the tree hollow with Spain in his lap, who eventually dozed off and was content with laying in an painful looking position; curled up where his head was resting on the child's stomach and his belly exposed to the sky. Every minute or so, he would twitch, extending his claws before tucking them back into their sheaths and snuggling his entire body closer to his henchman, if it could be called possible. Romano, on the other hand, merely stared up into the roof of the hollowed tree, apathetically scratching the top of the cat's head with the tips of his fingers. It was quiet there, this peaceful place he often retreated to in order to be completely alone. Usually anyway. Spain sometimes followed him there, trying to get him to cheer up but always ended up failing and having to wait outside the tree since he was too big to crawl through the child-sized opening, usually falling asleep too. Not that it mattered; if he was snoozing outside the tree, Romano would normally take this as a chance to sit in his lap without fear of his cheeks being pinched. That and he would probably be extremely uncomfortable inside if he did manage to crawl in because it was so narrow.<p>

So this was his first time in here, wasn't it? Romano glanced down at the snoozing cat, wondering if he was enjoying the relatively warm air swirling inside the hollow as much as he was.

Anyway, his butt was starting to become numb from the prolonged amount of time that he spent sitting on the unpleasantly rigid earth and his nose was getting stopped up from whatever grew on the uppermost branches. Not to mention, his stomach was beginning to beg him for food. Quite loudly too. Swirling his fingers on the back of Spain's chocolate head, Romano wondered how he would be able to find something to eat. Returning home was out of the question, with Teresa most likely patrolling the wall with a pan and a broom, just waiting for the child to try to sneak in. He also forgot to bring some money with him, so he couldn't go into town to buy something either. That certainly left him in a bind.

A gruff exhale flittered from his mouth and into the air, echoing back to his ears like the reverb from water dripping in an empty cave. This was getting to be a hassle and it was only a few hours into the day. He _really_ didn't want to think of how bad it was going to be in the future, especially if Spain remained a cat for more than a month. That boss of his would probably notice that he wasn't anywhere to be found and would send most of the government into a panic, which more than likely would end with Romano returning to Austria's place until they found Spain... who would probably follow the nation to the aristocratic bastard's home. That idiot needed to return to normal, but the Italian child had no idea where to start. Yet, when his stomach informed him once again that he was hungry, those thoughts of trying to help Spain were momentarily put on hold in favour of finding something to eat. Maybe even something for the cat too.

The idiot would owe him. _Big _time.

Romano didn't bother to be gentile when he pushed Spain off of his lap, not surprised at all that the cat twisted around in time to prevent his head from slamming into the ground, only to curl back into a ball seconds later. The lazy idiot. He'd just leave the animal here, both so he wouldn't have to put up with the cat turned nation while he was walking around and so it would be easier to find him once he did get some meat or something else similar.

So, with a determined huff, the child shifted himself onto his knees and crawled out of the hollowed tree, instantly hissing under the bite of the cooled air. He stood, wincing at the cold mud seeping in through his socks, staining them dark while sticking to his toes like an outer skin but did his best to ignore it. He had to be strong for Spain if he had to take care of the man now and a little wet dirt wouldn't be able to shake him down, after all, it nothing like what the Spaniard constantly threw himself into to keep his protectorate safe. But first thing was first; they needed food. Down the hill his trudged, carefully avoiding any wet looking spots to prevent himself from slipping and falling flat on his face, until he made it to the main walkway that lead to the village close to Spain's massive estate. Though cold, at least they were dry from the assault of the sun's rays, which informed the child that it was already past noon. Just great... he missed his siesta and now most people would be taking theirs. Hopefully, _someone_ would be awake and kind enough to feed a child without money. At least the people here didn't know how rude he could be since he always kept his mouth shut when he was with strangers, especially when he told Spain he would be on his best behaviour.

Stall after empty stall he passed, while others were run by snarky looking women who had their hair pulled back too tight or gruff looking men. While Romano would never admit it, he was terrified of these people so much taller and stronger than himself, even though he had the protection of Spain and near immortality. They could easily kidnap him and demand a ransom if they knew who he really was, though many of them saw him as the child who accompanied the brown-haired man who lived in that big mansion outside of town

Those who noticed him anyway. He _was_ that quiet when near strangers, usually clinging to the hem of Spain's shirt and out of their sight.

And whenever the curly haired bastard would try to introduce him to his '_favourite_' people, Romano would always become flustered and try to hide away. It wasn't like those reactions were on purpose... no... he was just... well... _shy_, as much as he hated it. He never knew what to say, unlike that annoying bastard who never stopped talking. Yet, it really didn't matter; Spain took care of the wordplay, while Romano merely stood ever so slightly behind him and took care of the glaring part of their conversation with whoever the idiot was chatting with. He honestly thought it was a perfect combination.

He reached the centre of the village before too long, and as he expected, there wasn't anyone who bothered to give him a second glance for two reasons that really didn't need to be named. It was plainly obvious he didn't have money, he wasn't wearing shoes after all and mud stained his knees, not to mention he was shivering with the lack of a jacket in the chilled air. They were probably laughing at him behind sealed lips, as everyone else did, but Romano didn't let any of it get to him. He was used to such ridicule, as much as it hurt when he tried to sleep at night, normally forcing him to crawl into Spain's bed in order to escape their laughing voices ringing in his head. That bastard always said that they weren't really laughing at him when they were silent or looking him over, but Romano knew better than that; it wasn't like that when his Grandfather was around and it wasn't like that now. As usual, the child ignored their fleeting glances when he passed them, pulling his lips into a frown and continuing on until he came into one of the benches in the middle of the town.

It was cold when Romano plopped down on it and began to rub at his sore feet, wishing that he remembered to pull on some shoes before storming out. They hurt like a bitch and were freezing under the now mud-caked cloth that clung to his skin, even as he pressed his thumbs into the sore flesh, just like Spain usually did for him after a hard day of work. The damn bastard knew where it always hurt the most, making the pain go away within a few minutes before he crawled up to cuddle with the child and fall sleep... usually snoring away and keeping the boy awake for hours on end.

Romano leaned back on the bench, shivering from the cool wood that touched his skin as he stared at the crystal clear sky. Damn, it was getting colder for this time of the year when it should be getting warmer; spring was only about a month away and it couldn't get there at a faster time. But there wasn't anything he could do about the cold weather... only bundle up before going outside like an idiot.

Which he failed to do, so now he was sitting on a bench while shivering more than he ever wanted to, looking for someone who would lend out free food. God... this idea was worse than some of the shit that Spain came up with when he was with the fuck-face and the freaky albino. A sigh left his mouth and his eyes fluttered shut, ears listening to the cooing sounds of a awakening town; he could hear children off to his left, playing a game of football while screaming their lungs out and some merchants trying to sale their wares behind him. What a shame it was to not have any money with him... if he did, he could buy Miss Belgium a nice gift for all of her hard work around Spain's place, or _maybe_ he could spare some change to buy the Spanish bastard something instead. A rag for that idiot's head. Like it would really matter what he got the moron... Romano could give him a rock he found on the street and he would be overjoyed, beyond words even. Spain was much too easy to please.

He lost himself in his thoughts, completely ignoring the old woman sitting down next to him, that is, until she began to speak to him in heavily accented Spanish. "You're Antonio's boy, aren't you?" Romano's eyes snapped open at the sound of her crinkly voice, slightly jumping in surprise only to allow a light frown to crease his lips. Who the hell was Antonio? He didn't know- oh... _Antonio..._ That was the name Spain used when he talked to the humans who didn't work for him or know him in the government, wasn't it? But who was this lady? Romano faintly recognised her but couldn't place a name at the tip of his tongue.

"Y-Yes ma'am..." He replied in Spanish, using it for once since that bastard wasn't anywhere to be seen. If he knew that the child was actually fluent in the language and just pretending that he didn't know very much, oh the idiot would never let it go and force him to speak the tongue whenever he was around. It would be nothing but a constant headache for the child.

The old lady chuckled to herself, wrapping her hands up in the cloth flowing down from its resting place on her head as her wrinkled eyes stared at Romano. "Now, there's no need to be overly proper, young one, although it is appreciated." A smile as sweet honey stretched her lips across her face, luring the boy into believing that she was harmless and was actually enjoying his company. That couldn't be possible... no human adult ever treated him with true kindness; they were all afraid that Spain would come after them and their money if they mistreated the child. Those poor fools. The idiotic bastard was too oblivious to notice something like that. "You must be cold without shoes, little one. You'll get sick if you don't put any on." She was right and Romano knew that for a fact, since he got a cold from being stupid enough to walk outside without any coverings on his feet and was forced to remain in bed for an entire week.

"I know... but I can't go home to get any." He kept his voice low, mostly from shame and a little from shyness, cutting his eyes to the tanned stones lining the ground once he knew the lady was judging him.

She throatily laughed once more. "It can't be helped, now can it? Why don't you and your little friend come over to my house and we can get you some shoes?"

"But I came here alone." The granny had to be going crazy, there wasn't anyone with the child at all but her smile only deepened, softening with every crinkle forming around her lips. A finger was lifted, pointing down and Romano's eyes followed it, looking under the bench to find two emeralds staring at him. The cat blinked before meowing and standing up. He stretched his entire body, yawning a soft and low hum once he arched his back, rubbing his dark fur into Romano's heels as he sluggishly sauntered out from beneath the wooden seat.

"He was following you the entire time." The old lady continued, gently scratching at his chin when he finally leaped up between the two. To put it bluntly, Spain seemed to enjoy the attention he got from the woman, tilting his head as her finger trailed over to his cheek and continued to scratch but he didn't purr once... like normal cats did. Come to think of it, he really _wasn't_ a feline at heart but damn if he could pass as one; the old lady probably didn't even know that he was actually the personification of the Spanish Empire. She smiled, moving her fingers up behind his ear to continue the affection he was receiving, throwing his tail into a thrashing fit. He must've really liked what the granny was doing, and in all honesty, it made Romano a bit jealous; Spain probably only let the child pet him before because he was crying and the bastard always was willing to suffer if the boy was in distress. He wanted Spain's attention, not the old lady, but it would be rude just to take the cat away from her, and he _refused_ to act such a way to a woman, elderly or not. Besides, she hadn't insulted him yet and Spain seemed awfully comfortable around her. "Why don't we get you and the little one some food along with those shoes, hmm?" Her voice was so kind and soft compared to what Romano was normally offered when someone decided to spare some time, at least those outside of Spain's house.

It couldn't hurt... she was only an old lady, so nothing bad could go wrong, right? And he would get shoes for his sore, wet feet along with some food... it was all very tempting, so he decided to go along with it. If anything bad happened, Spain would surely protect him in any way that he could, whether it be scratching and biting or yowling for help.

Romano puffed out his cheeks in slight embarrassment, turning his head to the ground as he answered the granny's question. "I guess that would be nice..."

"Let's be off so we can get some shoes on those feet before you get sick."

The Italian followed the granny as she walked to the west, with Spain on his heels, brushing his head or his tail against his legs at random moments of their short journey. Her home wasn't much on the outside, rather small compared to what Romano was used to, but he supposed it would have to do if she lived alone. There was a small kettle in front of the tiny fireplace off to the side and old curtains hanging over the windows, colouring the streaming light a soft blue before it painted the walls in the same hue. He liked it, for the simplicity if anything. Maybe if Spain had a house like this, the child would be able to find the damn bathroom when he had to piss since there were probably three or four rooms in the entire building.

Within minutes, the old lady found some spare shoes that once belonged to her son and gave them to the Italian nation, smiling at the soft thank you that he muttered back before she took up his socks so she could wash them for him. The shoes were very comfortable on his aching feet when he tried them on, a much better fit than many of the pair that Spain had bought him... it didn't help that Romano never asked for shoes from the man, feeling as if the Spaniard had better things to spend what little money he had on than the child. Spain even came over and sniffed the shoes (why, Romano didn't know) before turning concerned eyes upon the boy. He knew... oh, he knew that Romano was constantly outgrowing his shoes but every time he offered to buy him some more, the brunet would throw a fit, cursing up a storm. Yes, he did hate it, the pain of trapped feet that is, but he hated knowing that he could be a possible source of Spain's money problems more.

But Spain never seemed to care... he was _always _gleeful when Romano allowed him to spend money on him.

Romano remained sitting on the soft couch that the old lady pointed him to, quietly playing with his fingers as Spain sat beside his swaying feet that were still about an inch off of the ground. He wasn't touching the Italian, but he could still feel the heat radiating from the animal. Every now and then, the cat would glance up at him, staring for a moment after their eyes made contact before turning his attention back to the random furniture pieces across the living area, sneakily trying to make himself closer to the boy's legs. It didn't make any sense why he kept trying to be so close to him; he wasn't nearly this persistent when he was in a human form, usually giving up once Romano gave him a good head butt in the gut.

Then again... as of late, Spain wasn't around nearly as much as he used to be, and when he was, he was stuck in bed or limping around the house with a sloppy grin plastered on his face. Romano frowned. Maybe, even when he was in pain, he wanted to hug and coddle the boy but was afraid... why, he didn't understand but perhaps it would make the cat feel better if he allowed him to lay against the child.

But just this one time; once he was human again, he could forget about smothering him with hugs.


	4. Chapter 4

Romano remained at the granny's house for well over two hours, spending one of that time fast asleep on her couch. She didn't seem to mind at all and actually allowed Spain to climb up on the settee so he could snuggle up to the child, taking a quick nap as well. He was so warm, and soft, with his body pressed up to Romano's chest, and he honestly had a hard time resisting the urge to run his fingers through the cat's fur before he fell asleep. When the two nations woke up from their light slumber, Spain slightly before Romano, the lady had already prepared a snack for the two.

"Ah..um... thanks..." Romano murmured along with a small nod as she gave him a small bowl of what seemed to be vegetable soup with some kind of meat broth, and placed Spain his equivalent on the floor. As she disappeared into the back of her home, the two nations ate in silence, enjoying the soup that the kind Spanish woman prepared. It was very good, Romano decided, the warm liquid slipping into his mouth by the spoonful, heating his throat and body once it settled into his stomach. Spain seemed to think the same thing, with how many times his tail twitched in happiness. Hell, Romano was considering asking the lady for the recipe, not to cook it himself; he'd get that tomato bastard to make it for him. Maybe... Just _maybe_, on days when he is feeling generous, he _might_ brew some for the fool.

Spain finished well before the child did, tiny drips of the delicious concoction clinging to his whiskers before he licked them away, and rubbed his body against the bottom of Romano's feet. It tickled, nearly causing the Italian to drop his bowl as he twitched, jerking up his legs and tucking them to the side of his body. A scowl was shot down at the cat, but Spain merely blinked and tilted his head to the side. "You're not cute." Romano grumbled before finishing off his meal, still glaring and still watching the nation who was crouching, wiggling his butt back and forth. Not a second later, Spain leaped up onto the couch. He rubbed his body against Romano's side, dragging his head against the boy's arms and circling around on his legs until he sprawled himself on his tiny feet.

Spain rested his head upon Romano's thigh, those endless pools of emerald staring up at him as his ears twitched a few times, matching the calm flicks his tail made into the air. He really didn't seem to mind that he was now nothing more than a common house pet, and, for some odd reason, it bothered the Italian. Far too calm, he was, seemingly unworried at all about regaining his human form. Was he truly more comfortable as a cat? No... Romano had to be over thinking this. Maybe the idiot was just trying to not make the child worry about him.

Well, it was already too late for that.

The elderly lady came over to the two and took up their bowls after a few more minutes, humming to herself as he did so. It confused Romano a bit. Why was she acting so kindly to him? Was she truly just that nice? There was the possibility, but the Italian still kept a wary eye on her whenever she was around, especially when she came back into the room with a cloth wrapped bundle in her arms. "This is for you." She simply stated, smiling at the sceptical frown that merged onto the child's lips. "Antonio asked me to give this to you if I saw you before he retrieved it."

Romano glared down at the cat lying on his feet, honestly wanting to smack the animal, but was able to control himself as the granny sat dawn beside him. Spain mewed, quickly stepping over Romano's lap and onto the other side of his body, making sure to rub his head across the child's chest. He curled up beside the boy, and snuggled his head into the Italian's ribs. Whatever was in the cloth, it was very soft and light when Romano was given it, surprising him greatly; he somewhat expected it to be heavy, due to the size of the package. Upon a curt nod from the lady, he tugged the Spanish flag-coloured ribbon away from the bundle. Cloth fell away at the command of his fingers, uncomfortably soft and newly stitched he soon noticed, woven together with a patchwork of coloured silks that were pleasing to his eyes. Gold, red, white and green shifted under his finger tips, eventually exposing an alabaster object. It too was very soft, also filled with cotton he noticed as he picked it up.

A stuffed cat... Smaller than Spain's current form, though it blankly stared at him with its blue buttoned eyes and the neutral mouth stitched below its pink nose represented with a slightly smaller button. Dare he say it, but he was rather impressed by the level of detail on the animal; it even had limp whiskers made of thick strings on its cheeks. Romano glanced down to the breathing cat pressed to his side, and was met by an emerald stare. The bastard asked the lady to make him this? It had to take ages! Why the hell would he do something like this? "A-Are you sure it was for me?"

She hummed through her smile, reaching up and ruffling the boy's hair. "I am sure, little one." Old, wrinkly fingers trailed the stitches in the stuffed feline, down its legs until they came upon the blanket it sat upon. "He said that you get lonely when he's not home, and he wanted something you could remember him by."

Romano could feel his face warm up, especially when that cat bastard wrapped his tail around the child's arm. "But why would he ask you to make this for _me_? It must've taken forever!"

A soft chuckle fell from her lips and she ruffled his hair again, before taking the ribbon between her fingers. "You're mistaken." She cooed, tying the bi-coloured cloth into a bow around the stuffed creature's neck. "_Antonio_ made this for you, not I, though I had to help him with certain stitches."

Sp-Spain made this? How? There wasn't any possible way that the idiot could make something so...so... _cute_. Romano didn't want to think of it, but... perhaps, this was the reason that Spain was missing most of the previous day, and he managed to piss off the wrong person or thing, on his way home. It was possible, at least in the child's mind. "The blanket is yours as well. He also made that too, completely on his own." Really? There... wow... While Romano didn't fully believe the woman, if what she said was true, then, well... he really didn't know what to think. Never would he have suspected that his caretaker could do something like this.

"How long did it take?"

She smiled, leaning back into the sofa. "A few months; he worked on it when he had free time." Probably on that ship of his, or maybe late at night when Romano was asleep in his own bed, at least those were the only times that he knew that the man would have nothing to do. But now, instead of feeling overjoyed about receiving a gift, guilt bubbled up in his chest. When he should've been resting, that idiot was working on making something for the child, and probably spent a hell of a lot of money to get the resources for the silk crafted gifts. This was the reason that Spain was always broke... he should've prioritized his spending better, dammit! "He really loves you."

The lady's statement startled the child, though Spain made a sound in the back of his throat. "W-What?"

A smug smile formed upon her lips. "Antonio talks about you every time he visits. It's admirable, how proud he is of you."_ Proud_? That bastard never acted as if he was fucking _proud_ of the Italian. It was always something stupid, like overwhelming happiness or his typical idiotic nature, not pride.

She had to be mistaken.

Not much was said after that. Sure, they shared a few more words while Spain contently flicked his tail against Romano's thigh and rested his head on the child's stomach, but the Italian's mind kept drifting to what could happen if his caretaker remained in his furry form. Surely _someone_ would notice the idiot's absence and try to steal Romano for their own, that was just a given... and since Spain was a fucking _cat_ right now, there wouldn't be any way that he could stop them. That thought terrified the young Italian. He didn't want to be under the rule of France or the Ottoman Empire, or even Austria for that matter. But then again... Spain was usually missing from his home for the majority of the year, so it wouldn't make much a difference. Those idiots who wanted Romano for their own never dared to attack when the Spanish Nation was gone, for they knew the wrath set upon them would be more than they could recover from.

After another hour or so, Romano thanked the old lady for the food and warmth and left for Spain's home. That said cat remained on his heels, tail high in the air as the child trudged on, the stuffed animal held tightly in his arms with the blanket wrapped around it. It was much better having shoes and socks this time, though the sun still warmed his skin under its bright smile. Every now and then, Spain would purr out a meow and speed up his gait, going a foot ahead of Romano before looking over his shoulder and slowing down once more. The Italian understood it as his eagerness to return home, though he knew in the back of his mind that there would be a problem, albeit a small one. How would he get the cat inside the house without anyone noticing? Romano wasn't sure when his fellow nations would return, and if they weren't there, it would certainly prove to be a challenge.

Spain, on the other hand, didn't seem nervous at all. Then again, Romano couldn't really tell much about that his caretaker was thinking while in this form. Not that he really cared.

At least the weather was nice now. Romano was actually enjoying his short walk with his boss, his eyes drifting from the low lying walls that lined the path, to the cloudless sky, and even to the birds perched on the leafless branches high above his head. If only Spain held a human form, then it would be a perfect day, even though it was winter. Deciding to not fret about it, or at least he trying to, Romano turned his eyes back to the road he was following, already spotting the tops of Spain's home.

Even Spain apparently saw the loft towers as well, letting out a mew as if to urge the child along. "Alright, fucker. Stop rushing me." The cat's tail twitched at Romano's grumble, but nevertheless, the young nation hurried his steps, even breaking out into a run as his patience withered away. He needed to get home quickly and find a way to sneak the cat into the enormous estate. It shouldn't be too hard, right? It would be a challenge, but Romano didn't like everything to be too easy all of the time. Yet, the more he thought about it, the less worried he became. Upon sifting through the various memories stored away in his mind, he recalled all of the times he managed to sneak out under the noses of Teresa and Spain, so pushing that damn cat through one of his secret entrances would be a piece of cake. Confidence welled up in his heart at the memories playing behind his eyes, and it ate away at the doubts that he previously had. Yeah... _yeah_, he _could_ do this.

Yellowed grass whirred pass him, becoming nothing but a blur as he neared his home, excitement fizzing up in his stomach with every metre that was wiped away by his feet. This was a perfect time to show that idiot Spain that he wasn't as frail as those human children in town; that he was a _nation_, for fuck's sake! He could take care of himself, _and_, if everything followed the ingenious plan unfurling in his mind, he could prove to the cat bastard that he could take care of _him_ as well. Romano grinned at the brilliance of it. Maybe Spain would treat him with the respect he deserved after all of this shit was over.

And then, the two found themselves at the wall that surrounded their home. The iron gate was sealed closed, and even as he tried to reach the lock high above his head, his chubby fingers could only brush the very bottom of it. Grumbling, Romano turned to the east, following the wall with Spain close on his feet. He mewled as if he was questioning the child's motives. Romano simply rolled his eyes. "Shut up. It's not like this is the first time this has happened." It was around this time that the gates were locked for a few hours anyway, and more times than once, Romano found himself on the wrong side. He pointed in the direction they were walking, not bothering to check if Spain saw the action. "There is a hole in the wall up ahead. Your servants are too dumb to notice that it's there."

The cat meowed once again, yet the smaller nation ignored him. His attention was drawn to the bundle in his arms, pondering a way to fit it through the child-sized gap without dirtying it or himself. While he didn't want to wash stains out of his clothes, he didn't want the stuffed animal to be ruined either; Spain would be devastated if he treated the gift with anything but the greatest care he could muster. And it wasn't like the cat turned nation could carry it himself... its ass would drag across the ground. Groaning in annoyance, Romano eased himself down on his knees, holding his newly prized possession close to his, and crawled through the opening.


End file.
